Sunday is...

my favorite day of the week. It's a hectic day. But, I get to go to my favorite place, with my favorite people, and worship God with more favorite people who I'd rather be with than any other people in the world. (I'm sure I've violated some law of grammar using people so many times in a sentence, GOOD! I hate grammar rules. Mostly because I stink at them.)

This was our first Sunday, in a long time, to have to go to church without Chuck because he's at work. We made it out of the house early. Does that tell you who really holds the family up? I'm pretty sure it was a fluke. Shhh...we aren't telling him that.

When worship began, Clay and Luke were in junior worship and Zack (the teenager), whose been way too cool to sit with us for nearly a year now, was up front with the teens.

It was just Wesley and I on the pew today. Us being next to each other on the pew is no new thing because for YEARS now, Wesley has sat next to me. He's climbed over his dad, or squeezed his brothers out, and even done some heavy politicing with them in order to accomplish his goal. Once in his choice location, being next to me isn't enough, he manipulates his way under my arm.

Today proved no different, thank the Lord! There he was tugging at my arm pulling it over him. He played with my fingers, rubbed my skin, touched my nails, followed the blood viens in the top of my hand, traced the lines on my palm, he held my hand in his clammy soft hand, and interlocked our fingers. It was a great comfort to have him with me studying my hand as usual.

This summer I missed him under me when he was in Texas. One Sunday when he was gone I became saddened by the thought that maybe he'd come back and forget that he sat with me. That carried me to a new sad thought that one day he'll be too cool to sit with me, or worse yet, too big to sit under my arm.

It's funny how each of your children need different things from you. I believe Wesley sits with me, under my arm, studying my hand for a reason. I believe it's a haven for him. He needs the shelter from the world, because he struggles with who he is as a christian living in the world. I believe it represents stablity to him, because he can't provide it for himself yet. I also believe it represents a tether that won't let him go. For me as a mom, it represents that I'm still needed and that my job is to train and protect. My arm will always be ready and open to protect him.

I don't ever want to forget the feel of him tugging on my arm to wrap it around him, the warmth of him under me, the clamminess of his hand in mine, and the feel of his fingers tracing my hand. I know he won't need me sooner than I'm ready to let go.

I hope he's memorizing every line and wrinkle on my hand, the feel of our hands clasped together, the color of my viens, the toughness of my nails and the safety of being under my arm. I hope it brings him comfort, like it brings me. I hope in the future Sunday is his favorite day too, and as he worships God it reminds him of me, and that we are heirs to THE KING.